She has been thinking a lot lately. About what Toby said.
About dreams.
Becoming a lawyer—it isn't a decision, it isn't something she chose; it was just ingrained in her. Her mother, her father, her sister—they are all lawyers. If you are a Hastings, you are a lawyer. If you aren't a lawyer, you aren't a Hastings. That is the philosophy.
Ever since she was little, she has been told she would be a lawyer. It is the family business. It is how things worked. She wasn't asked, "what do you want to be when you grow up?" because her path was already set. She was going to be a lawyer—follow the footsteps of her family. And she learned to accept this, because with the world's economy, it was better to be something like a lawyer, than hopelessly wandering around for a career path.
She is good at a lot of things, but she isn't great at anything. People will tell her she is, but she knows that she is nothing out of the ordinary. She is mediocre.
But stupid Toby got her thinking.
Thinking about possibilities—he uprooted the hope she buried away all those years ago. He gave her hope. And if that is not the worst gift you can give someone, she isn't sure what is. People act like hope is a good thing, but it is not. At least not to Spencer. It is a wicked little thing. It laughs at you, it is almost a sadist. It gives you this sort of belief that everything is going to work out, but in the end, it never does. It is just a pathway to disappointment.
So, when she sees Toby on Saturday, at Dance practice, where she basically only sees him, she lets him know all the trouble he's caused her, "I can't stop thinking about that dumb conversation we had," she murmurs to them during stretches.
He looks amused by this, "what conversation?" he laughs, giving her an uncertain look.
"You know," she mumbles, staring away from him. "The one about...dreams, and all that optimistic crap," she elaborates.
"Oh, really? You've been thinking about it? That's good," he returns to his regular posture.
"What?" she follows his actions, standing up, and rolling her shoulders back, "no it isn't!" she cries. "You planted this stupid glimmer of expectation in my mind, and now I can't erase the picture."
"Did you ever stop to think that maybe that is a good thing?" he questions her, narrowing his denim eyes on her.
"No, because I know it's not."
He shakes his head, "you're impossible," he mutters, reaching towards his feet in a stretch.
She dives to her own feet, eager to shoot an insult back, "yeah? Well, you're insufferable. This is all your fault."
"I'm so sorry that I got you thinking about what you actually want to be doing with your life. Now, you won't be able to lead a miserable life, living your worst nightmare. Wow, lord have mercy on me."
"Becoming a lawyer is not my worst nightmare," she replies swiftly, standing up and away from him. She stretches out her arms to the side, bending her body in a curve.
He is beside her in seconds, "then what is?"
"Being in the same room as you for more than five minutes," she smirks at him.
"Isn't that what we've been doing for months?"
"It's a really long nightmare," she counters.
He rolls her eyes, going back to his own stretches.
Soon after, class begins. They are beginning the routine next week. Up till now, they've just been doing ball room dance class. Spencer curses Hanna for wanting all this. Not because of the dance class—she loves dancing, and really has been enjoying herself, but...Toby... Toby just makes everything so utterly awful. Sure, maybe there has been a couple times that were actually enjoyable with him. Say, last week. In his loft, it was great. She actually felt, sort of, sad to leave him. Not that she would ever admit that to anyone, but it was nice having someone to hang out with. Caleb and Hanna have been so busy with the wedding that she has barely seen either of them—well, she's seen a lot of them, but it always had to do with the wedding. And then there was Aria. She was busy with all her boy drama. And she had other friends, of course, like Emily and Cece, but there was always something in the way—something that these people had to do, instead of hanging out with her. And she got that. She did. But it didn't stop her from getting lonely. It was nice being with Toby...
But over the course of the week, her irritation for him had grown in full out wanting to punch him in the face. Why did he have to say that?
She is in her first year of law school, she can't just drop out now. What would she be? How would she pay for anything? She'd probably end up on the street! That's probably what Toby wants. That's probably his whole master plan. Get her to drop out of law school, to try and follow her dreams, and then to laugh when he passes her by on the cold streets. Her, begging for money. Him, pulling out a dollar, only to buy some coffee from the local stand. She can see the picture now.
After the dance lesson is over, the dance instructor, Felicia, steps up to them.
"Toby, I just thought I could help you with a few things..." she offers a graceful smile.
"I know, I'm a mess," he immediately bashes himself.
"No, no, you aren't. You could just use a few pointers," she explains. She turns to the brunette, "Spencer, if you don't mind," she murmurs.
"Not at all!" she glances at Toby, offering a wicked smile. He glowers at her.
Spencer exits the room, along with the rest, and puts her regular shoes back on. She slides her coat back on, arranges her purse on herself, and is about to leave the dance studio, when she realizes she forgot her water bottle. In all the annoyance Toby caused her, she completely forgot about it.
The door to the room where they dance is slightly open; enough to send voices to the other side. She is about to push it open, when something catches her ear. Her name.
"Spencer is, perhaps, too impatient with you..." she hears, making her copper eyes ice over. Impatient? Well, maybe if Toby could move his feet without kicking her in the shin, she wouldn't have to be—
"I think she tries to be patient. I'm, sort of, difficult," Toby's voice enters the scene. "As you can tell right now," he chuckles.
She hears the instructor laugh, "no. You're doing fine," she promises. "You must be under less pressure."
Who the hell does this dance instructor think she is? Insulting her? That's so unprofessional.
Toby doesn't say anything back. Spencer decides her stake out is done—
"Really, don't beat yourself up, Toby. Spencer is just...from what I've noticed...high strung. I think you could benefit from having another partner, really," she starts up again. "I could talk to Hanna if you like," she prompts.
"No, its fine," he declines.
"Are you sure? She is always so mean to you. It really isn't fair."
"I'm, sort of, mean to her, too."
What is Toby doing? It feels like he is sticking up for her, but she doesn't want to be too presumptuous.
"Maybe...but Spencer just seems...very irritable. You aren't the best dancer, and I think you need someone who knows how to have patience with you."
"Look," Toby starts, "Spencer...she can be...annoying, at times. But she is actually a pretty good teacher, and a really amazing dancer. She could be a little more patient, yes, but I really don't think I would benefit better with anyone else. I'm just a bad dancer, that's it. It doesn't have anything to do with Spencer. Honestly, I think she is doing her best with what she has. It's just me."
A pause.
"Frankly, I don't really see any improvement, right now. If anything, I think I might be doing worse. I think Spencer's good for me. Maybe, you don't see it that way, but I do. I want to keep her as my partner."
What the hell just happened? He insulted her a few times, yes. But he also stood up for her. He wants her to be his partner. Why? It doesn't make sense. She is mean to him all the damn time!
"Well, if you feel that way, I won't say anything."
"Thank you."
Suddenly, her water bottle doesn't seem so valuable.
...
Cake testing.
Spencer has to admit that this is probably her favorite wedding activity Hanna has dragged her to.
They go to some bakery on fifth avenue, called Lucky Leon's. It is Hanna and Caleb's, all time favorite, bakery. Spencer understands why, too. Everything is beyond perfect at Lucky Leon's. She would definitely not pass up a wedding cake from there. It may even be her favorite bakery, too.
They are in the car, outside the bakery, when Hanna says it. She is re-applying her mascara when she says it, in the most nonchalant way imaginable, "Oh, yeah, Toby's coming."
Oh, yeah.
Hanna throws the mascara back in her purse, and then pulls out a tube of lip gloss. She applies it on her lips, as Spencer stares her down.
"He is?" she stammers out.
"What? Aren't you two, like...on good terms now?"
"I never said that."
"You so did!"
"No, I didn't. I told you we weren't friends."
"One of you told one of us, that you're making the best of it. And I remember you, specifically, telling me that you'll be civil with him on my wedding day."
"I didn't know you and Caleb were getting hitched today?" she pokes an eyebrow up at her blonde friend.
She rolls her eyes, "just thought you could maybe stretch out that promise." She throws the lip gloss back in her wallet. Turning to her friend, she asks, "is it really that hard to be nice to him?"
Spencer thinks. She doesn't know. At this very moment, her reason for not wanting to see him has nothing to do with him aggravating her. It has to do with whatever the hell happened at the dance studio yesterday. She feels weird about it. Toby said those things, thinking she wouldn't hear them, but she did. Now, she has to pretend she never heard anything. She thought she would have more time to fret over it all.
They go inside, and sure enough, Toby and Caleb are sitting at one of the tables, a baker and line of cakes in front of them.
Hanna takes a seat next to Caleb, giving him a kiss, and Spencer takes the seat next to Toby because she has nowhere else to sit.
"Are you going to yell at me again for inspiring you?"
"You didn't inspire me, first of all..." the words come out in a heedless matter. It is just human nature to banter with him. Even when he did something nice, she still treats him this way. It is a permanent pattern. It cannot be changed. "And second, I never yelled at you."
"You definitely did," he counters.
"I'm going to yell at you right now if you don't shut up about it," she fires back, meeting his sapphire eyes with a glare.
He looks amused by this. Delight tinkers in his eyes; a lightness.
She moves her eyes away, taking in a breath.
The owner of the bakery begins to show them the cakes. The first samples they get are of red velvet and cream cheese frosting. It is Hanna's favorite kind of cake, and Spencer has to admit it is hers too. She imagines they'll end up going with this one. The bride basically controls everything.
They try some more cakes—lemon, chocolate, yellow, white—the basics, and then some more specialized ones. Around thirty minutes later, with full stomachs, Hanna and Caleb go to the counter and flip through a book of cake designs, leaving the pair of Spencer and Toby alone.
Spencer twirls the fork in her hands, trying to devoid of the awkward tension between Toby and herself. She doesn't know what to say to him. Why does she even care? She's never cared before...
"You're staring pretty intently on that fork," he observes.
She glances at him with a hard stare, "would you rather have me stare at you?" she remarks, wit laced in her voice, a smirk folding out on her features.
Now he is the one with the intense look in his eye. She feels a ripple of nervousness running through her as their eyes continue to tango under this sudden tension that seems to make it possible for her pupils to escape.
"No, but it seems like you would like that..." his voice cuts the tension.
She glowers at him, her upper lip quivering, "please," she scoffs, finally looking away.
"I'm just messing with you," he reassures her.
She twirls her fork again, pursing her lips at his words. She lets a little silence pass before opening her mouth, "So, what was your favorite cake?" she questions, not looking at him. She is only asking to pass the time, really. And she did have a few nice conversations with him in the past. She isn't really sure how she feels about him.
"The lemon one was really good," he tells her.
She snaps her head up, giving him a look of disgust, "that one? Really? I mean, it was good, but compared to the rest? Seriously?"
"Why? What was your favorite?" he snaps back, a little impatience in his tone.
"Red velvet," she tells him, smacking her lips together, and putting her fork down. "It's my favorite kind of cake, so...I mean, obviously it was going to be my favorite..." she goes on, folding her napkin in half.
"It was okay. But I don't know, the lemon one just stuck out to me. I like unusual things," he voices.
"Yeah, everyone says that, but when it comes down to it, people tend to fall into conformity."
"I like to think I don't," he responds.
She meets his sapphire eyes again, "well, you're pretty unusual, yourself, so maybe that's true..." she states.
"I'm going to take that as a compliment," he decides.
"It wasn't intended as a compliment. It was just a statement," she conjectures, adding a shrug.
"Well, as I said, I like the unusual, so it is a compliment to me."
"Whatever," she rolls her eyes, "next time, I'll just call you ordinary."
"Fine. Then I'll call you different," he counters.
"I thought you thought that was a good thing..." she gives him a quizzical look.
"Yes, but you don't believe that."
"Who says I don't?" she rebuts.
His eyes focus more strictly on her, his hands resigning from the game of playing with his water bottle. Toby has those kind of eyes that are so easily transformed into passion and intensity. One swing of emotion and suddenly, he is able to open your soul.
"Interesting," he observes, slowly nodding his head.
She purses her lips, fluttering her eyes down, bobbing her head up and down in small movements.
Why do they keep falling into tension? It is getting out of hand. It's like she can't go a conversation without getting lost in those dumb eyes of his. It is just that they are...intoxicating, almost. She has always had this thing with his eyes, really. Even when she despised him, she still quietly admired those piercing blue eyes. Their stimulating, and she can't help but get a little out of her element when looking in them for so long. Especially when he gives her that one look he has. All intense and what not. Why does he have to do that? Does he know that it makes her this way? He can't...
"You know what, I got an idea," he speaks up. "Did you drive here?"
"What? Why?"
"Because Caleb drove me, and we're just sitting here..." he sighs.
"And what? You want me to drive you?"
"Well, yeah, sort of..."
She sucks in her lips, staring at the couple at the counter. Knowing Hanna, they'll probably be here for another twenty five minutes. She kind of wants to go home too. She has a lot of homework, and she can't spend her day in a bakery, but why should she drive Toby?
"What's in it for me?"
"I'll buy you a coffee."
"You still owe me like three, if you don't recall from our little match..."
"And you owe me a kiss, but I'm not making you keep that promise."
She sucks in a breath, "you said that you were kidding."
"I was, but still."
"You're so immature," she rolls her eyes, staring away from him.
"And you're stubborn. What do you want from me? I'll give it to you if you take me home."
"Why do you want to go home so badly?" she interrogates. "What do you need to do so badly that it can't wait a half hour?" she pushes.
"Nothing really. I just know how this is going to turn out. There going to be like, hey can you guys car pool? Because they are going to the same place, and it makes no sense to do anything other than that. Plus, it is typical of them to push us together. It's entertaining."
She lets the thought ponder in her mind. That does seem like something they would do...
"Fine, but you still owe me something."
"What?" he asks, glaring at her.
She purses her lips to the side, smirking at her idea, "a kiss," she cocks her head at him, a teasing glint in her eyes.
He laughs, "right."
She gets up, and then tells him to follow suit. They tell Hanna and Caleb they are leaving, and neither seems to care too much. Although, they do make some annoying comment about them being together. As always.
She drives him to his loft, the one above the coffee shop. A few months ago she did this—when he had his arm cast. She remembers seeing the coffee shop, and thinking he was tricking her into some type of date. She can't believe she thought that! What was wrong with her?
She pulls into the parking lot, wondering if the coffee is actually any good here. She is craving a coffee.
"Is the coffee good here?" she asks him when they come to a stop.
"Yeah, it's pretty good," he shrugs. "I mean, I drink it a lot, so it kind of lost its spa-daz."
"Spa-daz?" she quirks up an eyebrow, unable to hold her smile back.
"Uh, yeah..." he chuckles, looking down.
"I think I'm going to get one," she lets out.
"Not ready to part from me just yet?" he smirks at her.
She laughs, "yup, that's it..." she glances away.
She doesn't understand her relationship with Toby, and perhaps she never will. Banter-buddies? Friends? Enemies? She isn't sure which trope best suits them.
"I'll buy it for you," he offers. "Since I owe you the coffee, and all..." he elaborates.
"...and don't forget the kiss," she reminds him, smiling at him.
"Okay, I get it. I'm annoying."
"Finally you admit it!" she rejoices.
"Yeah, well, you're not that great, either..." he counters, his gaze becomes intense.
"How so?" she challenges him.
"For one thing, you start 95 percent of our arguments."
"I do not."
"You never admit that you're wrong."
"Come on," she rolls her eyes.
"You don't even listen."
"I heard you, loud and clear, trust me," she declares.
"And you do this thing, where you pout, and it is just...horrible," he exasperates.
"You're the horrible one! You just accused me of , like, three things. And insulted me! And you're one to talk. You're always staring so intensely at everything. Why can't you just look at someone normally? Like, right now, you're doing it..." she fires back.
"Doing what?"
"Looking at me...like that. Stop. It's annoying."
"I'm not doing anything," he declines.
"You so are! You're doing it right now, and you know you're doing it. So, stop," she demands.
"Fine."
"Fine," he replies.
She leaves the car, slamming the door, and Toby follows.
She doesn't know what this feeling inside her is, but she doesn't like it. And she wants it to go away. It is something of desire.
And that desire...it is for Toby.
God. What is she going to do?